


apple of my eye

by peachpety



Series: Autumn Drarry Drabbles [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autumn Drarry Drabbles, Drapple (Harry Potter), Hogwarts Professors, M/M, flirting with food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachpety/pseuds/peachpety
Summary: Harry receives candy apples from an admirer, and Draco is not impressed.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Autumn Drarry Drabbles [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956262
Comments: 18
Kudos: 180





	apple of my eye

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10 of Autumn Drarry, y'all - a third of the way through, whew! The prompt is "a candy apple disaster," and I had loads of fun with this one. Thank you sweet curlyy-hair-don't-care for the excellent beta! Enjoy! xo peach

The first candy apple arrives wrapped in clear cellophane and tied with an orange and black bow. 

Draco is grading his Fifth Year students’ essays — abysmal to be sure, but he has an entire term to get them up to snuff — when the owl swoops into the teacher’s lounge and deposits the damn thing in front of Potter. 

“Oh, Harry,” Professor Sprout twitters, “aren’t candy apples your favourite?”

Potter agrees and offers her a slice, annoyingly affable chap that he is. 

Sprout enjoys her piece with gusto. “You must have a secret admirer!”

Draco frowns and slashes an entire paragraph with red ink. 

Potter’s overbright smile remains fixed for the remainder of the day. Draco can see it from his classroom window while Potter faffs about with some new creature on the lawn to the delight of his students. 

In fact, Draco’s sure you could see that ridiculous smile from space.

* * * 

The second candy apple arrives covered in white drizzles criss-crossing like lace over dark chocolate.

Draco is pouring his third cup of tea— his afternoon class with Second Years merits three cups at least — when the owl drops the package onto the table, startling Potter out of a doze. 

His eyes light up a perfect Slytherin green when he unwraps the plastic. Meanwhile, to the surprise of no one, Professor Longbottom natters on about the cocoa tree or some rubbish. 

Potter listens and nods and devours the slices, smacking lips slick with chocolate and sucking sticky fingers. 

“Use a napkin, you heathen!” Draco tosses over his shoulder before exiting the lounge. 

The heat flooding his cheeks he attributes to that decidedly unwise third cup. A teeny Second Year asks if he’s feeling ill, and he assigns the entire class 10 inches of parchment on the Giant War of 1800.

* * *

The third candy apple is covered in gooey treacle and dripping with nuts and chocolate chips. 

Draco is finishing his salad — a healthier choice Potter could stand to make — when the owl places the messy thing in Potter’s grabby hands. 

After the first bite, he erupts into such raptures and moans it makes Draco’s ears burn hot. The new Defense Professor, what’s-his-face, nearly swallows his own tongue and offers to make Potter his mother’s treacle tart.

If Professor Drools’s toupee just _happened_ to take flight like an air-borne pygmy puff, more’s the pity. 

Potter catches up with Draco in the corridor and walks him to his classroom, recounting the event with exuberant mirth. He has treacle on his chin, and his hands flutter about as he talks. 

He tells Draco to call him Harry.

* * *

The next candy apple requires two owls for delivery. 

Draco is grading papers again — a professor’s bane — when Potter, _Harry_ , plunks the monstrosity in front of him on the table. 

And a monstrosity it truly is. First off, the apple itself must have been enlarged by an Engorgio or cultivated by Giants. It was simply too big to be allowed. The entire enormous vulgar thing is covered with glistening caramel and chocolate drizzles — white, and brown, and _orange_ , for fuck’s sake. Marshmallows and Halloween-shaped sprinkles dot the sticky surface. It’s cloying scent nearly overpowers the woody outdoorsy musk of the man sitting himself down opposite Draco. 

“You know,” Harry says, tugging open the purple velvet ribbon, “candy apples are my favourite.”

“Fascinating.” Draco watches him pinch the plastic delicately and unwrap the saccharine beast with care.

Harry collects fallen sprinkles, capturing them with the press of a fingertip. His nails are surprisingly well-manicured for a man who wrangles creatures for a living.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, delivering the sprinkles to his mouth and licking them off. 

Draco stares at Harry’s tongue curling around his finger. “It’s obscene,” he says breathlessly. 

“You’re leaking on that parchment there,” Harry says, indicating the paper Draco had been grading with a lift of his brows. 

Draco glances down. A splotch of red ink bleeds from the tip of his quill. In his haste to clean up, Draco vanishes the ink pool and all the writing along with it.

Harry’s lips twitch. “That’s unfortunate.”

“An improvement, actually,” Draco snarks. “It wasn’t that brilliant to begin with.”

Harry laughs, loud and melodious, and Draco’s magic vibrates in all the right places. 

“I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all my apples,” Harry announces, as if Draco cares about his happiness. Which he _doesn’t_. That warmth settling in his heart must be from the second serving of pie he ate at lunch.

“But this is my favourite part,” Harry says softly. He deftly removes the apple core, vanishing it with a snap, and slides two fingers into the hole. Heat expands through Draco’s body, cascading to his extremities — _all_ his extremities. Harry works his fingers, and the apple falls open like a flower blooming, slices perfectly formed. 

“Would you like a taste?” 

Draco swallows the saliva pooling under his tongue, mute. 

Harry shrugs. “I would think you would like to know that your money was well spent.”

Draco clears his throat. “I’ve no idea what you—”

“I contacted the candy company,” Harry says, “and spoke to a Mr. Whitman? Lovely chap.”

“And a bloody snitch,” Draco mutters. 

Harry picks up an apple slice and holds it up to Draco’s mouth. “I want to thank you, Draco,” he purrs.

“You may pick me up for dinner at 7,” Draco says magnanimously, and on impulse, he leans forward and takes a bite. His lips brush against Harry’s fingertips, and the apple tastes crisp and sweet. 

Harry’s eyes darken, and the corner of his mouth hitches. 

“I think maybe we should have dessert first.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me indulgently lurking on [tumblr](http://peachpety.tumblr.com/).


End file.
